Libido Part Deux

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Wow! Who would’a thought that the response to my previous post, “Libido. Gone but Not Forgotten” would have generated such interest.  Personally, topics on life and libido past 50 are really hard to find and that particular topic even harder. (No pun intended).  You all had such great things to say, and some were surprising while others were basically saying my life is doomed and I need help. We could all use a little help, but the doomed part I have to disagree with. So let’s break the comments down, shall we?

It was great to learn that I am not alone in my libido limbo. In fact, the majority of women were dining on the same dish as moi.  Many felt that the post was long overdue and again a topic that seems to be passe for many.  I don’t know about your rearing, but my mother told me nothing other than babies come from God (A rather general statement and quite frightening when you’re 10). She was long gone before there was any talk on menopause so my information came from friends, which is always dicey and magazines which is dicier.  Suffice it to say, my menopause insight was as deep as my birds and bees insight.  I’m self taught and well, sometimes one needs affirmation.  Your responses affirmed that libido breakups happen and it’s not a bad thing, in fact it’s more of a natural process than not.

Some felt that my poor husband was like a 7-year old looking through the glass candy counter knowing that he’d never get a single bite. Not true. We just don’t have sex as often and my love for him is shown in different ways. He’s far from celibate, we have great communication, make each other laugh a lot and the sex does happen from time to time. Men are innately more randy than women because they’ve been programmed to procreate whenever and however they can.  Ladies, a little more discriminating. I’m sure some will disagree and say that both are sexual and I think in the teens through 30’s that’s pretty true.  But I’m not discussing that time, I’m discussing where I am now and well, I asked my husband if he felt neglected and he said, “No, should I?” and smiled at me.  Libido is not love and love is not libido.  Therefore, I have to say for those that feel pity for my husband, he’s rotten spoiled and I adore him. Nuf said.

For those that are worried about me (God bless gal pals!) I am perfectly fine. You see I’m not sad that my libido has left the building, I just wish women would talk about it more and not fear that it means life as we know it is over. Quite the contrary.  Because sex isn’t on my radar 24/7, I have time for so many other wonderful things. As I referenced in my last post, I have such a great appreciation for things I never had time for previously.  I am significantly more proud of who I am as a woman, I laugh more than I ever have (often times at myself because it’s healthy) and I believe that the things that really, really matter have risen to the top, much like cream, whip cream. Wait, let’s find another metaphor, my glasses are steaming. (Remember, I said libido may be gone, not forgotten.)

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Finally, there were some that felt if I needed a little libido lifting, reading a great romance, watching some soft porn might do the trick. Nothing like women to help out a gal. Much appreciated.

At the end of all of this is still me, us, women who should not be ashamed of what the media tells us is abnormal or what others tell us unless of course it’s negatively impacting our life.  My life has never been greater. My kids are grown, my husband and I love each other for the things that matter this time in life, humor, intelligence and honesty. No disrespect for those who still chalk sex up and super important, go you! For too long our society has made aging a negative thing.  The focus in on youth. I was young and I have no desire to revisit that time. I’ve worked very hard to get to this point in my life and quite honestly, there is no wrong or right, simply great discussions!  I am ever so grateful you all joined in the discussion, there’s so much left to talk about.

 

Together let’s embrace the change!

Meno

It suck to get old. Or does it?

 

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Growing up my elders often shared, “It sucks to get old.”  Typically, the comment followed an injury or a bout with the flu or cold. They were always sure to add, “The body just doesn’t bounce back like it used to.”  The bounce back part when it comes to certain parts of my body, I’m a believer. But the getting old sucks piece, it’s tempting, but I’m not buying in.

A couple of weeks ago, I was out walking and mistook an ice patch for a puddle of water. (How my eyes deceive me. ) I felt like it was in super slow mo. My legs kept moving as they left the ground and gravity pulled me down with an oomph. “Dangit!” I thought to myself, “This is not going to be good.”  I looked back at the right butt cheek that took the impact of the fall to see my favorite walking pants torn. I wanted to pull down the pants to assess the damage but I noticed a man walking towards me and thought likely not a good time.

“You o.k. ma’m?”  Ugh, “Yes, thank you, I’m fine.”  I walked with a limp and I thought for sure I was out of commission for awhile. Then I noticed my knee was bleeding and I was immediately brought back to my youth.

Remember the summer of scabby knees?  I wore those scabs on my knees and elbows as a badge of courage. In fact the success of summer was dictated by the number of kids who showed up on the first day of school with the scabbiest of knees. That thought made me smile.  I then realized that here I am at 50 something, I can still wipe out and walk away, sans tears.  I began smiling at the fact that I can be outside and move my body fluidly, without limitation. Even though that fall did set me back a week or two, I have got the absolute best scabby butt cheek in the world.  And I feel like the kid I did in summer, with my badge of courage. Unfortunately, I can’t share it. Well, I guess I could but somehow I’m thinking the reaction would go from cool to creepy. scab

So when I hear folks drone on and on about how age slows the healing process (yes, it does) or how we just can’t do what we used to I have to move on. I can either buy in to it or walk away knowing that things may be different now, but I can still sport a scab with the best of them!  Who say’s getting old sucks?  Not me.

 

Here’s to scabby knees!

Meno Pause